


Without Emotion

by L-aviateur (Hannah_Kerela)



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash, psychopathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-26
Updated: 2012-05-26
Packaged: 2017-11-06 01:05:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/413011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hannah_Kerela/pseuds/L-aviateur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He supposed that the man's meager attempt at "torture" lasted an hour or so.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Without Emotion

**Author's Note:**

> Another kinkmeme response - Holmes as a psychopath.  
> Disclaimer: I'm not a psychologist; I don't really know how a psychopath's mind works. However, I can guess, and this is my best guess. I'm thinking of a companion piece from the attacker's POV, to show how Holmes would look on the outside.

Holmes opened his eyes, taking in his surroundings, mentally piecing together where he was and why; he could safely assume that he had been knocked unconscious by the man that had come up from behind him. His head ached, and his mind was operating sluggishly. He was concussed, then, most likely. He tried to move.  _Well, that hurt_. He turned his head slightly to get a better angle to observe his arm, which now radiated pain. Given the bruising and unnatural twist to the limb, he guessed that he had fractured the bone when he fell. Other than that, he felt fine, though he was restrained to the wall by his wrists and ankles.

"Well, well, Mr. Holmes. I see you're up," a voice said from the direction of the doorway.

"Indeed," Holmes said blandly. "You might have taken more care when you knocked me out," he added.

That, apparently, was not the reaction this man had wanted from him. He heard the "whoosh" of the whip before it cracked across his face. The criminal, whom Holmes recognized as the thief in the case he'd been working to solve, didn't seem to want to stop there, either. Another strike, this one across his chest, alerted Holmes that the man was speaking to him, and apparently wanted to be listened to.

"You're just a little too close, Mr. Holmes. I think I will need to show you to mind your business, and leave the hardworking thieves of London alone."

"Holding men like you responsible for your crimes would be my 'business', as you put it. I  _am_  a consulting detective, sir." He knew that the man would object to the comment, but he had never been good at impulse control, and enraging this man had a chance of proving useful to him. Men in a rage were seldom rational, and often easy to control. He felt another blow connect with him, and looked back up at the man, raising an eyebrow. The weapon had changed to a knife, which didn't surprise him. The evidence the man had left had painted him as a particularly unimaginative sort, and he had been expecting a knife to come into play at some point.

The man grinned. "Quite a cool one, aren't you," he commented. "Let's see if we can't change that, hm?"

So that was his game. Holmes suppressed an urge to say more to aggravate the man: the best way to unnerve the man, after all, lay before him.

He waited patiently as the man tore into him, then, mentally cataloging his injuries to relay to Watson later. The man was versatile, he had to give him that: he used a multitude of weapons, from a whip to a knife to a scourge, as well as a gun, and a set of matches, which left neat burn marks on his chest. He supposed that the man's meager attempt at "torture" lasted an hour or so. When the man placed the weapons aside and moved to remove his clothing - apparently, the man was an invert as well, Holmes decided to make his move.

"I do hope you didn't intend to frighten me," he commented. That worked. The man froze, staring in utter shock at him. He returned the gaze calmly. "It is, after all, quite impossible to inflict fear upon someone who has no emotions, sir. Now, if you would kindly remove these restraints, I might be persuaded to omit your treatment of me from my official report to the police."

The man couldn't release him fast enough. He was free and able to return to Watson within a few hours. When his roommate asked him what had happened, he informed him calmly that he had experienced a bad fight and that he would require some basic medical care, but that he needn't worry too much about the matter.

After all, Watson was something special: someone who looked at his true self and saw, not a monster, but merely another person. He couldn't allow something as irrelevant as a small amount of torture worry the doctor: he was far too good for that sort of thing


End file.
